


Out for the Count

by SilverLynxx



Category: Rush (2013)
Genre: Fluff, Launt, M/M, Rathunt - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 12:11:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1266070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverLynxx/pseuds/SilverLynxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stunned brown eyes snapped up into startled blue. “You asshole,” Niki hissed.</p><p>Then they were on the floor, punching, grappling, and spitting insults at each other, Niki snarling in German as James insulted everything from Niki’s mother to his teeth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out for the Count

The whole race was a fucking disaster from start to finish. Actually, it had been a disaster since the teams first set foot on the woefully unprepared grounds, and it had only gotten steadily worse from there.

Niki’s only comfort was that everyone else seemed to be hitting roadblocks at every turn right alongside him.

“For fuck’s sake, is this course manned by completely incompetent assholes!?” Niki swore, dodging the various mechanics weaving around the crowded garage. The place looked just short of decimation.

The noise was nearly deafening with tools of all sorts working against his car which was almost entirely stripped bare. Mechanics swarmed around it like vultures picking apart a carcass, tightening bolts and thrice checking the suspensions, gears, and anything else that existed in the car that could be checked. Niki watched on with tired and furious, yet no less critical eyes.

“Barely enough marshals to ensure a race, and not a brain cell between them!” he gestured aggressively with the hand not clasping his coffee. “Debris on the track, they allowed us to start with debris on the track! Fools, the lot of them!”

“Yell a bit louder, Rat, they can’t quite hear you down at Marzario”.

It’s not a voice Niki wants to hear at five in the morning.

“Fuck off, Hunt,” Niki snapped with particular venom, turning to face his rival at the door. He took perverse pleasure in seeing that the Brit looked just as shit as Niki felt, with a noticeably haggard appearance and deep dark smudges under his eyes. Staying up all night to repair your car to guarantee you actually had something to race that day would do that to you. Niki really didn’t want to know how he looked.

“We get it, the track is barely ready and they’ve fucked up, but hearing you bitch isn’t exactly improving anyone’s mood. We all have cars to repair.” James wasn’t bearing his usual grin, but even so, with tensions running high throughout the pits, it didn’t make his presence at the garage doors any less agitating.

With a sound of disgust Niki strode up to the Brit, finger pointed and hand sweeping out for emphasis.

“Your life may mean nothing to you, Hunt, but I will not have mine handled so carelessly by these bastards. It is unacceptable!” James rolled his eyes and landed a heavy hand on the smaller man’s shoulder.

“You need to lighten up, Ratty; people can barely stand you when you’re in a _good_ mood.”

His hand was struck away with such ferocity that James had to take a step back to keep his balance.

“Do not touch me, and get the fuck out of my garage!” Niki snapped, turning his back on his rival, the dismissal clear.

James shoved Niki before he was aware he’d even thought to do so, but by that point the Austrian had been thrown forward from the force of it. The sound of Niki’s coffee cup shattering against the floor cut through the sudden silence in the garage.  

Stunned brown eyes snapped up into startled blue. “You asshole,” Niki hissed.

Seconds later they were on the floor, punching, grappling, and spitting insults at each other, Niki snarling in German as James insulted everything from Niki’s mother to his teeth.

“Alright, that’s enough! Enough!” they’re quickly swarmed by voices and bodies. Clay and Audetto each grabbed one of Niki’s arms and pulled him to his feet while James was hauled away by his own team who had come to reclaim their wayward driver.

“Get him out of here!” Audetto barked as James was removed from the garage sporting a bruised cheek and a graze on his chin.

Niki wrenched himself from Clay’s grip as soon as James’ was gone and adjusted his shirt with sharp, angry movements, wiping away the blood oozing from his split lip with a scowl.

“He is an animal and should not be let out unsupervised!” Niki sniped, running a hand through his shambolic curls. Audetto waved him away irritably.

“Just go get into your overalls, Lauda, we have a race to win.”

Niki swallowed a livid breath and turned on his heels, rubbing his aching eyes and mumbling furiously under his breath as he went to change.

In the end, Niki skimmed into first place a few fractions of a second before James. The gathered crowd roiled and screamed as the winners were welcomed back with fervour.

The drivers themselves, exhausted as they were, hoisted their arms in celebration and congratulated each other in the aftermath of the frantic pre-race chaos they’d all endured. It was only when they were all sat in front of a sea of press that Clay leant forward to scan the line of drivers set up for questions and asked the room “Where’s Niki and Hunt?”

The room hushed as the drivers glanced around, just to confirm that they were in fact missing their first and second place winners, before they were out of their seats and out the door.

“I’m pretty sure I saw Lauda heading towards the McLaren garage after the race,” Ronnie called over the sound of their boots. Clay groaned and picked up the pace.

“You don’t think they would actually have a go at each other after the race, do you? It’s not like Lauda to pick the fight,” Patrick put in as they neared the worryingly silent garages.

“You didn’t see them this morning; I don’t doubt they would have killed each other. Who knows what they’d do if you throw sleep deprivation and adrenaline into the mix. Hunt’s not known for being a sporting loser either.” Clay replied grimly.

Bruno is the one to pull open the door to the McLaren garage. The drivers, plus team managers, Mayer and Audetto, filed in and spread out. There was no blood, no bodies, not even a mess.

“Are they even here?” Mayer asked, scanning the work space unconvinced.

“Oh. Yes, I’d say they’re definitely here,” Ronnie grinned from the back of the garage, standing on the far side of James’ car.

The drivers shuffled up curiously and circled the McLaren, stopping in their tracks as they rounded the other side.

Niki and James were indeed there, sat on the floor with their backs against the car, legs outstretched and helmets abandoned at their sides. They were tilted towards one another with Niki’s head on James’ shoulder and the Brit’s cheek cushioned on Niki’s curls; both sound asleep and snoring softly.

Clay grinned and clapped his hands together, moustache twitching with giddiness, “Please, someone get the journalists.”

**Author's Note:**

> The wonderful art for this fic was done by [Froakie](http://froakie-yes.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! Thank you darlin' <3


End file.
